I Am Thinking Violently - Tumblr Posts

Sunset skin

Wc: 1.3k

His skin is warm from a day in the sun. Coming home to you is one of Shoyo’s greatest joys in life, as is maintaining any form of physical contact with you at all.

Sometimes, you get a bit… insatiable. You greet him with a kiss at the door as always, but when he dips you to make it a little bit more exciting, you raise a leg to wrap around his torso. What he found with that motion was that you were wet for him, your arousal slicking against his thigh where his swim trunks stop. You whimper, his heat against yours overwhelming.

“Oh,” he whispers. “I see.”

And that’s how you’re here now, in full view of your sliding doors to the beach-front view. Shoyo leans back on a kitchen chair with the poise of a drunken king on his throne. You’re perched in his lap, arms braced against his sculpted chest.

He’s warm.

Everything about him is warm - even the molten texture of his eyes as you grind against his thigh. “There you go, baby,” he murmurs, running his hand down your spine. “Use my thigh.” Reaching under you, he spreads your lips apart, pressing his flexed thigh against as much of your cunt as possible.

It’s enough to make you fall apart.

Whimpering, you halt all motions. But Shoyo is like the sea he spends his days next to, constantly in motion, back and forth. When you don’t move yourself, he wraps his steady, calloused hands around your waist, dragging you back and forth on himself. The moans it elicits are divine. A litany of Sho, Sho, Sho falls off your lips with every pull at your waist.

“You’re so pretty,” he groans, once you resume the motions yourself. His shirt is gone by now, and so is yours. Your hands brace against his sculpted muscles. Leverage as you bring yourself closer and closer to the brink of orgasm. Your movements speed up, and Shoyo’s breath picks up too. You feel it in the way his chest rises and falls under you. “Like a goddess,” he hisses, tugging at the hair at the nape of your neck. His other hand runs circles into your clit, even as you fuck yourself against his thigh.

You scream at the intensity of feelings all around you. He looks so wonderful in the sunset, his tan, freckled skin pulled just right over his toned body. He smells like sea salt, feels like sunshine. If anything, he’s the ethereal one here. And the thought pushes you over, legs trembling as you collapse onto his chest. The hand in your hair tightens and tugs again, the hand on your pussy continuing to generate friction at a punishing rate. His lips are on your neck, kissing and sucking and soothing in a way that your orgasm is not.

It rips out of you, leaving no energy left to hold you up afterward. You collapse on Shoyo’s chest - indeed, still warm from his day in the sun.

“Baby,” he grunts, wiping his cum-stained fingers on your outer thigh. “You’re on my dick.”

Haughtily, you drag your inner thigh against his very prominent bulge. “Whatever, Shoyo.”

“Fuck, dammit,” he gasps, throwing his head back as far as it will go. Your lazy hand reaches into his trunks to pull out his length. You’re pressed against him still, chest to chest, legs around his thigh. But your hand is on a mission, swirling around his pretty, sensitive cockhead. “Oh, shit.”

He’s already hard from letting you use him as an instrument of pleasure, so it doesn’t take long for him to be on the brink of cumming himself. “Inside,” he gasps, pushing you off his chest. “I need to be inside.”

In seconds, he has you bent over the coffee table, manhandling you to face your giant window. “Look at yourself,” he directs, pulling your hair to angle your face just the way he wants it. “Look how you’re such a messy slut for me.” Kneeling behind you, he rubs his sensitive head up and down your folds, smearing wetness between them messily. He meets your eyes in the reflection in the glass. Wordlessly, he sheathes himself in you, moving slowly to watch as your expression changes with every added inch.

You’re begging as he pushes in, his arm locked around your neck and holding you up just enough. The whines and pleas come out choked, but he knows what they are. Faster, Shoyo. Move, Shoyo. And he does, just enough to work himself back to the brink. “Watch,” he demands again through heavy breaths. He’s pressed against you, warm and firm and unyielding against your back. “As I paint your insides white.”

You’re moaning deliriously, calling yourself a number of names in an attempt to draw the cum out of him. I’m your filthy slut. Your cumbucket. A desperate whore. A hole for you to fill. A fuck doll. With each name, you slam your hips back against him.

When he finally cums, he pushes so deep inside of you, like he’s trying to shoot his cum straight into your womb. He stays like that a few more moments, watching your expression with each consecutive spurt. You’re thanking him wantonly, whimpering and moaning like the whore you proclaimed yourself to be.

It’s so filthy.

He releases your throat. If you think this is your chance to breathe, you’d be wrong. He pries your jaw open, forcing his fingers into your throat slowly - for no other reason than it pleases him to spear you from both ends. “Can you do one more for me, baby?” The question is useless, since he’s already rocking his hips again. “Can you rub those tits for me?”

Obediently, your hands find your breasts, gently kneading the sensitive nubs. “Oh, come on,” Shoyo mocks you, pulling almost his full length out slowly before slamming back in so quickly that your whole body jolts. You gag on his fingers in your throat. “Don’t act innocent. I know those tits can handle more than that. Pinch them.” The next order is to pull them. To twist them. Each motion sending ripples down to your pussy tightening around his cock.

You’re both nearing another orgasm, the desperate pleas to cum falling off your lips with every thrust. With a grunt, Shoyo maneuvers you off the table, onto all fours facing the window. Through it all, he never stops thrusting, reveling in the way your tits sway with every thrust. Spanking your ass, he continues at his merciless pace. Your screams and whimpers and moans and pleas go in one ear and out the other, pulsing through his brain on their way out.

He fucks you like an animal in heat, his stamina from volleyball keeping him pressing into you until your knees buckle from pleasure and exhaustion. He keeps going after that, pulling just one more orgasm out of himself.

By the time he’s done, you’re limp on the floor, fucked out of strength. He finally pulls out, a white ring of your combined cum nestled at the base of his dick. He jerks it a few more times, shaking any last spurts of cum on your stomach.

Laying on his back, Shoyo rolls you over on top of him. “Hi, baby,” he starts. He does that, babbling at you after blowing your back out. “You’re alright. I’ve got you.” With a thumb, he wipes the tears from your cheeks. It’s never a session with Shoyo if there are no tears. “Hey. Hi. I got you. I’m here. I’m right here.”

Impossibly, you whine and start to move against him again. The way he’s pulled you onto him, his thigh is once again between your dirty folds. Gasping, you smear yourself against him, his cum spilling back out of you and onto himself.

With a terribly fond smile, he strokes your hair as you slowly rub against him. “My messy slut.”